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igotlovestruck · 11 months ago

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storiesforpeanut [ lando norris ]

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — bf!lando norris x pregnant gf!reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °. *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — soon-to-be-parents, fluff, mentions pregnancy, no specific timetable . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °. *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ this is inspired by a filipino actor, ryan agoncillo’s instagram hashtag, #storiesforlucho ! something about dad!lando makes me feel so soft >_< i’ll post this first before posting the written version of fine line (bc i am in a deep pit of writer’s block) anyway, enjoy <3

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

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storiesforpeanut

5 likes

storiesforpeanut the day mum and dad went to the hospital to make sure if the tests were true, if you were true. and you were. mum and dad are both confused, scared, but are confident that they could take care of another human being. peanut, the moment we saw this sonogram, our hearts were filled with joy.

this is the day dad called you ‘peanut’ because look at how little you were, my peanut. dad even convinced mum to name you peanut, but mum shut that idea right away. our little peanut, this account is dedicated to you, so you can look at our memories as a family.

peanut, mum and dad loves you so much. you may have changed the trajectory of our lives, but we are still grateful enough to have you in our life. we love you, peanut.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

8 likes

storiesforpeanut you were getting bigger day by day, peanut. bigger and stronger that mum was starting to show. mum never left my side, never missed a weekend supporting whatever it is dad was doing. she started wearing bigger clothes to avoid people seeing. not that she was embarrassed, but because mum was afraid that something would happen at the early stage of your growth.

mum did not believe in superstitions during pregnancy, but when you were growing inside of mum, she didn’t want to jinx anything that might harm you, peanut. avoiding the public eye was hard, but heck, your mum did such a good job doing so.

we love you, peanut. and we will protect you from any harm. we will protect you for the rest of our lives.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

16 likes

storiesforpeanut our first day back in abu dhabi after a year. mum got ready for our friday schedules and we arrived earlier. people were shocked to see her, after hiding her bump with oversized clothes for at least two months while accompanying dad. people took photos of mum and dad, people started congratulating the both of us.

we hid you for a little while, peanut. that’s because of dad’s work where almost everyone in the world is staring at us and that scared mum and dad. that someone might mob the both of us and could cause you and mum harm.

negativity aside, peanut, your aunts and uncles were excited when they saw mum. everyone, including dad’s big boss had a huge grin on their faces. everyone was happy to meet you, peanut. even though it will still be a few months until we meet you personally.

we love you, peanut. we can’t wait to meet you here.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

20 likes

storiesforpeanut mum and had has two moods: beach mood and winter mood. this is taken after our weekend in abu dhabi. we stayed for a few more days, exploring the beach and enjoying the sun before going to a cold place to spend some time with dad’s friends (and ski! which mum can’t do as of the moment, don’t want to harm you, peanut).

you won’t believe it, peanut. mum threw a snowball on dad's head, her revenge because i insisted we call you peanut.

mum enjoys the sun and winter, peanut. those are her favourite season. dad, however, loves all seasons as long as he gets to spend it with mum and you, as well, peanut. mum and dad will experience these seasons with you in a few months.

we love you, peanut. we can’t wait for you to experience your first snow, first beach, first autumn and first spring.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

29 likes

storiesforpeanut taken while mum and dad are on their way to maccy d’s in the middle of winter. mum said she wanted fries without the salt. /fries without the salt/. even though that was a weird request, can’t deny mum her weird cravings. after all, she’s growing a literal human inside her–which is you, peanut.

also, mum only ate three pieces of fries and made me eat it while she watched. that i didn’t like. but you know what? dad is ready to give you everything you want. you and mum. be it a weird craving, late night feed or nappy change–i will be there for you and mum. always in all ways.

we love you, peanut. we can’t wait for you here.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

37 likes

storiesforpeanut mum took this video. the very first time you kicked, and dad was in the shower (unfortunately). mum and dad are visiting mum’s family where mum reunited with her childhood dog. mum’s pup, poppy, immediately went to her and checked. poppy sensed your existence, peanut. even poppy was excited to meet you.

mum and dad’s family are delighted to have you, peanut. especially your grandmums. they now named themselves, nan from dad’s mum and granny from mum’s side.

we love you, peanut. we are all waiting for your arrival.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

55 likes

storiesforpeanut 30 weeks in, and we finally saw your beautiful face, peanut. mum and dad haven’t gotten over the first time they heard your heart beat, felt your kicks, yet here you are... so beautiful as mum’s doctor showed us your face.

peanut, mum and dad were scared the first time we found out that mum was pregnant. but seeing you now, all those fears are gone and we feel confident that we can do this–together.

you are such a happy baby, peanut. you even got dad’s dimples, said mum. you are a perfect balance of mum and dad.

we love you, peanut. 10 more weeks until we finally meet. we can’t wait for that day to come.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

79 likes

storiesforpeanut last week of mum’s beautiful belly. any day now, we will finally meet you. you’ll have your first breath, first cry. mum and dad and other family members cannot wait to finally meet you, peanut.

the last nine months has been crazy, peanut. it was crazy, but it was fun. brought mum and dad closer than ever. you’ll be so loved, no, you are so loved already, peanut. and a little spoiled because some of dad’s friends from work have sent you numerous toys and clothes and even diapers to last for the next year or two.

we love you, peanut. we’ll see you soon.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

249 likes

storiesforpeanut well, it’s nice to meet you, peanut. mum and dad are delighted to finally see you. mum laboured for almost 24 hours, and by the time stroked at exactly 04:49 am, you were born.

dad almost passed out during your birth (for some reason), but dad got through it. mum was so brave, dad held her hand throughout the procedure and never left mum’s side.

peanut, the second they returned you to mum and dad after cleaning you and helping mum, we couldn’t stop looking at you. how could we make such a beautiful baby like you? said dad.

we love you so much, peanut. welcome to the real world.

love, dad.

yourusername

liked by mclaren, lilymhe, landonorris and 1,839,937 others

yourusername baby olivia norris checking in 🫣👩‍🍼

view all 23,961 comments

mclaren congratulations, y/n and lando! 🧡 welcome to the world, olivia 😍

landonorris my girls ❤️

user OMGGGGG shes hereeeeee

user congratulations 😭😭😭😭😭😭

user shes so tiny!!! 😭😭 so cute

lilymhe congratulations girl!! 😍 can’t wait to officially meet ms. olivia and see you soon 🤗

yourusername thank you babe 😚 you and alex can visit us anytime

alex_albon on our way NOW

yourusername dont bring any more toys ok

lilymhe aww why not :(

yourusername WE HAVE NO SPACE ANYMORE

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell and 1,990,827 others

landonorris me 🤜 🤛 peanut

view all 45,839 comments

maxfewtrell will i be able to hold olivia 😁

landonorris no

maxfewtrell ☹️

yourusername lando be nice

landonorris ok fine

user let him hold olivia!!

landonorris 😐😐

oscarpiastri congratulations mate 🫡 on my way to give gifts

landonorris thank you and pls dont bring anymore

oscarpiastri it’s a koala bear

landonorris ...

landonorris ok fine i guess

oscarpiastri 🐨🐨🐨

user no way lando’s first picture with olivia is them doing a fistbump 😭

user why are there two babies in this pic

storiesforpeanut and landonorris

908,729 likes

storiesforpeanut on your very first boat ride, dad had the courage to finally ask mum an important question. a question dad has been wanting to ask mum since he saw your very first sonogram. and guess what, peanut? mum finally agreed to marry dad!

you may not remember this at all, peanut. but it was a day to remember, indeed. dad really wanted this to be perfect, and he got what he wanted. this is a year full of surprises.

we love you, peanut. we love you so much.

love, dad.

view all comments

user omgomgomgomgogm

user LANDO GETTING MARRIED JFJFHFJF IM CRYINGGG

user OLIVIA MAY NOT REMEMBER IT BUT SHE JUST WITNESSED HER PARENTS GET ENGAGED AND GET MARRIED IN THE SAME LIFE TIME

user congra😭😭😭😭tula😭😭😭😭tions

yourusername

690,857 likes

yourusername beach days with the loves of my life 🌅

view all comments

user i love this family so much

user THE KITTLE FINGERS

user PEANUT’S SMALL FINGERS IM CRYIGN

landonorris i love you babies

yourusername we love you, daddy

landonorris 😳😳😳

yourusername sleep on the couch tonight

landonorris I WAS JUST KIDDING

landonorris BABE

landonorris PLEAAAASEEEE

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris one shot #lando norris oneshot #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris insta au #f1 imagine #f1 fan fic #f1 one shot #f1 instagram edit #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader

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ma1dita · 1 year ago

Text

kiss his face with an uppercut

smutty part 2 here-> heavy hitter

words: 4k

summary: james potter is so attractive you could beat him to death with a bludger. james potter x fem!beater!reader not from gryffindor (for the plot!!)

warnings: none! james gets physically hurt multiple times by reader, multiple innuendos, enemies to lovers kinda, less serious lovey dove more sexual tension!!! probably not accurate quidditch gameplay

a/n: sorry for the hold up guys this took almost a month of on and off editing lmfao— this whole oneshot makes me think of the filipino word ‘gigil’– simply translating to cuteness aggression; i barely know jack shit about sports much less quidditch but this concept had me looking up quidditch rules to be able to provide– eat up kids

Y/S- sibling name

Y/H- house

(posted & edited 10/10/23)

—

Oh BROTHER, this guy STINKS! I mean, how has he not gotten walloped at least once during this godforsaken game? You suck your teeth at the sight of James flying around the pitch blowing kisses to his fan club and Lily Evans, who turns her nose up at the sight of him.

Merlin, when will this game end?

The Hogwarts Quidditch Semi-Finals of 1977 was a game to watch… until both teams stopped scoring what seemed like hours ago. Both Gryffindor & (Y/H) were at a stalemate, down some players due to injury and now, even lower team morale. Gryffindor team captain and chaser James Potter, notorious Marauder, and resident flirt, is not someone who likes to lose. He’s spent all season drilling his teammates, memorizing plays, and thinking of every outcome possible to ensure another Gryffindor victory. James’ affinity to be right takes precedence over anything, after all. But after beating down almost all of (Y/H)’s reserves, James was almost vibrating with confidence. He really doesn’t lose, not if he can help it.

“AND ANOTHER (Y/H) IS DOWN WITH AN INJURY— Team captain Whithall calls for a timeout as they reconvene on what to do next! Hope you’re still comfy in the stands, folks….” the student announcer grumbles.

There’s absolute chaos on the field, and like birds scuffling over a piece of bread, (Y/S), the team’s last good beater is floating on a gurney, ready to be transported to the Hospital Wing.

“Oh, here comes trouble…” Sirius murmurs, smacking James on the back to grab his attention.

You jump down from the stands to check on (Y/S), and James is too busy reveling in the idea of winning the goddamn semi-finals that he doesn’t notice you putting Quidditch gear on.

“Easy win from here on out, Pads! The little lady’s just checking the damage. Not important,” he chortles before Sirius physically grabs his head to face the girl walking towards him, currently storming across the turf to meet him and his team.

“I’m subbing in,” you say, angry at how dirty Gryffindor’s been playing, and angry that you even have to play in (Y/S)’s stead.

“Sweetheart, this game is for serious, you know that right?” James says a bit dumbly with a furrowed brow. Both of you are head to head, and James sees the twitch in your eye as you cross your arms. Hot air is seeping out of your pores but James’s lip simply quirks up in intrigue. You’re someone he hasn’t noticed before, and the only thing running through his mind besides winning the game is that you’re really pretty. But then again, he’s always found angry women to be attractive, in retrospect.

“Yeah, for the actual cup, not…for Sirius… It’s the wrong time to joke, innit?” Sirius says to break the ice, noticing the palpable tension between your glares. Your faces are inches away from each other and he’s not sure if you two are going to fight or kiss, but it makes him grimace all the same.

“Who do you think (Y/S) practices with? Unlike you and your friends, I know when to take things seriously,” You say through gritted teeth.

“She’s legit, Potter. Got added to our reserves last week.” Whithall pipes up, ready to get back to the game. The crowd has been weathered down after hours of anticipation, and they want to see the end of it, no matter the outcome.

“Much to my surprise,” you grumble, elbowing the authority in the form of a teenage boy not much older than yourself. You should’ve known your sibling was looking a little too happy as they got floated off the pitch on a gurney.

“Then let’s play. Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” James says condescendingly, floating away on his broomstick like it’s a walk in the park, but the way you’re slapping the bat against your palm is getting Sirius a tiny bit nervous for his precious countenance. The whistle blows and the game resumes.

“A SURPRISE ADDITION (Y/N) JOINS HER HOUSE AS BEATER! Gryffindor better watch out for her swi—” You slam the bludger in James’s direction and it hurtles toward him so fast that he almost folds in half, barrel-rolling on his broom to dodge it. The move makes Sirius and a few of their other teammates gasp to see James scrambling back onto his broom.

“Oops! Looks like I missed.” you deadpan, balancing midair as you whack another one where it rebounds off the Gryffindor seeker and back towards James, hitting both of them in the gut.

“THIS GIRL’S GOT AN ARM ON HER! Though might I say her hits look a bit targeted…” The commentator says worriedly, and everyone in the crowd is leaning in their seats trying to get a better view.

“Merlin, are you trying to kill me woman?” he yells in outrage.

“I’m trying to finish the game. Your big head is in the way,” you say with a straight face as Sirius bats towards you, and you spin on your broomstick without shifting your posture. The smile on your face as you taunt him should be considered criminal, but he’s looking at you in a new light.

Yeah, now he’s paying attention. The other Gryffindor players can’t seem to figure out your next move and you bat another bludger towards Potter’s extremely large target of a head, and all of a sudden he’s freefalling through the air as his teammates fly to catch him, one by one. His nose still makes impact with the ground before Sirius catches by the ankle like Achilles taking a dip in the River Styx.

“AND (Y/H) HAS CAPTURED THE SNITCH! Good job to their Seeker, Appleby! Congratulations on a job well done, so that we can all finally go home.” The commentator cringes as McGonagall swats at him to leave the podium.

Who even is she, taking over the game and stealing his win like that?

He’s walking up from the sidelines with a bloody nose, going to shake Whithall’s hand and you’re standing behind him, a malicious grin plastered between your rosy cheeks, windswept and almost ethereal while he looks like he got flattened by a hippogriff. Fuck, she’s pretty. You look like you floated down from the heavens, and by the looks his team gives him, he may have just crawled out of the earth.

“Congrats,” he grumbles, turning to you. Really pretty. It’s even worse that you’re devastatingly stunning up close— with sweat glistening on your brow and a pearly white smile, he takes a good moment to really look at you and memorize the flutter of your eyelashes. He’s unsure if he’s concussed or maybe it’s his astigmatism, but there are actual stars in his vision as he peers down at you. Your confidence is actually kind of sexy.

“You look…um…you ride well.” He stutters, shaking his head from his personal reverie.

“Excuse me?” you say, your little mouth agape in what he hopes is not disgust. He looks pathetic, blood sopping down to his jersey as he looks at you like he’s only seeing you for the first time, acknowledging you closely. Something about seeing him flail makes you crinkle your nose as you stifle a grin.

“I mean…Um…” Damn.

Sirius pulls his best friend away before you can bite back your laughter, all of your teammates leading you away to celebrate.

“Mate, what the shit was that? Are you alright in the head?” Sirius says, and if James’ nose wasn’t already bleeding he was going to slap him silly.

“Just…Didn’t see that coming…” he mumbles, and his mind, along with all of Gryffindor is in disarray as they walk back to their tower. He’s got a lot of thinking to do on what his next move will be.

—

James Potter goes through life in three methodical ways: 1.) creating a strategy, 2.) making a scene, 3.) and dragging his friends into it— in that particular order, every single time.

Now notice how considering consequences is not part of said process.

His ego wouldn’t let him rest after a girl, much less a very pretty one that he’d never noticed before—beat him at what he does best; quidditch! In fact, the next few nights were void of sleep and filled with thoughts of you. The way your hair looked so soft in the sunlight, how your lip turns almost Gryffindor red when you bite it in concentration, and maybe how your delicate hands would look as they tightly grasp onto his bat...ahem…your quidditch bat. Some dirty delusions aside, if looks could kill, he’d be dead seven times over, but honestly? He’d probably thank you for it.

James’ new mission was to figure you out, and if that was his mission, it meant it was the rest of the Marauders’ too. For the sake of winning the Cup, of course. That’s what he tries to tell himself until his mates catch him ogling you again at breakfast.

“So what is it with you and girls that inflict you nothing but pain and humiliation?” Remus muses, as the Marauders watch James laugh at a joke you told your friends at the (Y/H) table across the Great Hall. He looks at you like someone who stares at the sun, squinting and burning himself as he ponders on why he’s unable to look away.

James fumbles a response, shoving Remus as they all laugh. “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a masochistic streak, Moony. Just…There’s something about her…”

Your friends are pointing at him now, and as you turn to meet his eyes, you lift a brow inquisitively and flip him off. Sirius’s face pulls up in shock at James’s growing smile at the interaction as he mumbles, “Maybe you’ve met your match, Prongs…”

The boy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, anything to try to see you clearer as he leans over to put his head in his hands, sighing dreamily. His friends are not as easily amused.

“A match made in heaven, you reckon?”

—

“Match made in hell, more like!” You spit, almost choking on your scrambled eggs at your friends’ insinuations. Your back is as stiff as a board, shoulders tight at the notion of you ever liking James Potter triggering your fight or flight response. When it comes to someone as pompous as him, only the word fight comes to mind.

“Oh come on, love… He’s popular, funny, and quite handsome…It’s James freaking Potter we’re talking about!” your roommate gushes, but you're not the least bit impressed.

“Is that supposed to do anything for me? I can think of a few F words that middle initial can stand for…” Eyes rolling, you peek back at the Gryffindor table to see said boy wiggling his fingers at you teasingly until he accidentally smacks Peter in the face with his toast. Idiot.

“Only hot people get away with stupid shit. I mean look at the four of them!” you continue, gulping down the rest of your coffee. “Potter’s the worst out of all of them though. Big ass head must compensate for a lot of things." You say, shaking your head at your friends.

"And yet, here you are, talking about him for the fourth time this morning," your roommate replies, smirking. " You’ve been Potter crazy since you helped us beat Gryffindor in the semi-finals! Are you sure you don't have a crush on him?"

"No!" you say too quickly, too loudly, that the shrill noise of your voice makes your ears hurt and the shit-eating grins on your friends’ faces reflect how desperate that came off. You slump onto the table, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You wanna kiss him, don’t you?” they tease, and you push away their puckering faces as you scoff, “With an uppercut, maybe!” Almost makes you want to stomp over there and wipe the stupid look off his face…and maybe sit on his lap. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. All this aggression really needs to go somewhere, but unfortunately, James Potter’s lap is the only destination you have in mind.

“He’s just really punchable. I get so annoyed by the sight of him I just want to… ugh!” you groan, your hands shaking as you try to convince them (or yourself). Your friends cackle at the sight of you pretending to squeeze his curly-topped, mothball-filled head, but your brain changes course and you imagine what it’s like to hold his hand. Your fingers flex cautiously at the idea, wondering what his touch would feel like. Grabbing a glass of water to cool your thoughts, your peripherals reveal he’s still staring at you like you make night turn into day. His gaze is searing, and as you put your lips around your straw, he licks his lips slowly. Shit.

—

Availability bias is one hell of a mindfuck. If only they taught psychology at this magic school, maybe the wizarding world would have way fewer problems and more people would be straightforward and not.. Dead. James decides he can categorize his life now as before you, and after you.

Before you, well… he honestly wasn’t even sure if you were a student at Hogwarts until he saw you marching down the pitch, but now… You’re everywhere. He can spot your voice in a crowded hallway, and who was going to tell him you’ve had three classes with him this whole term? Even down to when he shuts his eyes, he’s convinced his eyelids are branded with the imprint of your silhouette. Every conversation he strikes with you ends with you laughing at him, and he’s unsure if that’s a step up or down from the many boisterous rejections from Lily Evans over the years. He sort of wishes you’d laugh with him, and do a number of other things, (heck he’s got a list of ideas he’s wanked off to), and well… His soul is tightly wound with thoughts of you and Godric, listen to this guy…. maybe the boys were right…. Maybe he really does need to get laid.

It’s funny how fate works, two people who’ve barely interacted in the past six years at Hogwarts are now paired together for a History of Magic essay worth 20% of the term grade. You’re trying to get this done as fast as possible, he notices, mapping out ideas and trying to discuss how to piece it all together, yet James does everything but that to get you to pay attention to him. He fills your head with mundane little questions, asking you what your favorite fruit is to the childhood bedtime story your parents told you as a kid.

“What’s your middle name, Potter?” You muse, finally entertaining him after endless chatter. His eyes trail to the exposed skin of your collarbones as you stretch in your seat, and well… you don’t look as menacing as you always do but did it seriously have to be this question? He scratches the back of his head, silent for the first time in the two hours you’ve been trying to craft this essay for the sake of both your grades.

“What? I can’t just go around calling you James Fucking Potter. Spit it out, you know too much about me already.”

He clears his throat, a blush creeping up his neck. “It’s… that’s an intimate question, love… I…”

Your laughter at his response makes his senses shut down. “Oh, so it’s bad. What is it, Franklin? Fabio? Come on, I won’t bite.” A part of him wishes you would, your face equally flushed and so close to him right now, almost leering at him for an answer. It’d be easy to just lean over…

“Fleamont.”

Your lips quirk, until they pucker like you’ve guzzled a lemon. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, and the sound explodes out of you. You laugh so loudly Madam Pince kicks you both out of the library, James carrying both your knapsacks, a hand around your waist as you rush out of there. Your body is firm under his touch, pupils unfocused and dilated looking at him now that you know his dirty little secret. James thinks that if you keep looking at him like that, hell, you can call him anything you want.

—

Fleamont.

What a prick. A really attractive, clueless prick. The memory makes you giggle as you get ready for the Quidditch Cup and your team charges out onto the field to face Gryffindor again, as you’ve both advanced to the finals. He’s not as much of an asshole as you originally thought. It’s undeniable that something pulls you towards him, whether it be hormones, concern, or the fact that it’s actually adorable the way he writes his mother back weekly, or admirable how he moved Sirius out of Black Manor himself last year. Maybe it’s endearing the way he goes out of his way to make first-years smile or heartwarming how even Filch can’t find reasons to hate him. The golden boy. You get it now, why people get trapped in his web, and why many are unwilling to leave.

You pass him outside the locker rooms, bumping shoulders as he smiles almost bashfully. The golden boy, loudmouth, ball of energy is reduced to a nervous pile of teenage ineptness at the sight of you, every time. You could take him (not in a fight). In an actual fight, maybe you could land a few solid hits before his nice muscly arms hold you do—

“Ready to finish this, darling?”

Your eyes refocus when his hand nudges the small of your back, right above your hip. “Mhmm,” you clear your throat, “Ready to lose, Potter?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moves closer, slowly backing you into the wall.

“Eyes on the prize Potter, I’m in this to win it.” You say, looking at the closing distance between both your chests. James nods, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment, even when the announcer calls out the imminent start of the game.

“WELCOME TO THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP OF 1977 GRYFFINDOR VS. (Y/H)! I hope you are all excited as our last match between these teams was quite thrilling at the end of it!” The announcer says, hyping up the roaring crowd as your teams parade onto the pitch.

His eyes are still on you when he shakes Whithall’s hand and the whistle blows. It’s intense, and makes you feel like you’re burning, even if the wind is blowing like crazy today. You bat the bludgers toward anything red on the field that even dares to move toward your teammates. James won’t stop staring at you, and you both lock eyes across the pitch.

“What? Flirt with me later, Potter, I’m trying to win!” you yell.

He’s got you transfixed, and it’s crazy how his timing is always wrong. You bat the bludger away from your captain but don’t notice James flying towards you to respond as you give it your hardest swing, making the impact against his huge target of a head all the more painful.

Holy shit, did you kill him?

He keels off his broom like a shot bird and then he’s falling, and you’re the one chasing the Gryffindor chaser as he flaps his arms like the idiot you know he is as you push forward to catch him before he splits his skull open.

“I’msofuckingsorryJamesareyouokay?” You blurt out as you land, soft hands moving over his broad chest and quickly swelling face. He’s wearing that stupid grin again, and you think you may have finally broken Gryffindor’s team captain.

“You know my name?” he sighs happily, comfortable in your lap and maybe it’s the brain damage you’ve caused him or the way his glasses are bent beyond repair but you will every magical predecessor you can think of to stop you from punching him in the face right now.

“Are you fucking dense?” You scream, shaking your head, and jostling him as his arms try to reach out to swipe the hair away from your face.

“Must’ve hit him so hard you knocked his filter loose..” Sirius muses after he lands next to you two on the grass.

“POTTER’S TAKEN A HIT FROM (Y/H) and it doesn’t look good ladies and gents! Gryffindor calls a timeout to check on their captain!” The announcer calls out, and there are so many eyes on the two of you as James is simply giggling like a prepubescent schoolboy. Fuck, you’ve maimed the golden boy.

“Y’know, sweetheart. You’re…really sexy when you’re on top of me like this,” he says breathily, and you really can’t hit him, so you jab Sirius in the gut instead when he tries to laugh at his best friend’s stupidity.

—

James wakes up in the hospital wing with a blinding headache until someone gently pulls the curtains closed, stroking the hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Poppy you always take such good care of me…” he mumbles. A punch lands on his chest and his eyes rip open, not expecting to see you at his bedside.

“Idiot,” you mutter. “You’re always in my way and now look, you almost got yourself killed and it would’ve been my fault! How dare you, James…” The red is crawling up your neck like a brushfire as you berate him, and he takes it with a grin as you jabber on, putting his arms behind his head.

“Were you worried about me, love?” James smiles cheesily, catching your arm at its half-hearted attempt to slap him across the face.

“I was not. Stubborn people like you are hard to kill. I’m more annoyed that I can’t morally punch your face in since you have a concussion. Madame Pomfrey’s already healed your cheekbone.”

“That you broke,” he says matter-of-factly, taking a chance to kiss the palm of your hand. This concussion is working like a bottle of Felix Felicis. It’s endearing to see you taking care of him, whether you like it or not (even with the punches he’s sure it’ll come with).

“You’re sick in the head.”

“For you. I was trying to come tell you that I never took my eyes off the prize, but then of course you bludgeoned my face in before I could get sweet on yo—”

Your lips crash down on his, and nothing about it is delicate. It’s a month’s worth of yearning, imaginations coming to fruition as he grabs the back of your head to deepen the embrace. Your lips on his are hot and heady, and he could be easily convinced that he’s stuck there, cauterized to the shape of you.

“I know. I could feel you watching.” You breathe into his mouth, leaning up on his chest. His lips chase up again to meet yours, biting down on your bottom lip as you groan. He might like that noise better than the sound of your laughter. It’ll be fun to find out.

“Who won the Cup?”

Laughter spills out of your red, kiss-swollen lips as you pat his cheek gently, fingers grazing over his healed cheekbone.

“Not Gryffindor. But listen closely James, if you be a good boy and get past this concussion, I’ll make up for it by showing you how well I ride…”

He likes the sound of that, Quidditch Cup be damned. You see, James Potter never loses, ladies and gentlemen, not really—and well... there’s always next year.

—

“I like the way

you look at me

like you are

going to talk to me

or devour me

and I am fine with either.”

-N.R. Hart

taglist: @jsjcue

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#marauders x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #marauders era #james potter x you

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caimitos · 3 months ago

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why does being a healthcare worker in this country pay 2 pesos and pocket lint. i want so badly to just have a decent job and maybe have fun along the way but oh my god. jesus christ

#anw started new job at hospital today and they already taught me how to compound chemo meds which was very neat!#but also the salary ohh im sick they were telling the intern that being a pharmacist pays so well But in literally #every other country except ours ahahajqhaua. this goes for literally everyone from medtechs to radtechs here too tbh #once i get a year of clinical experience im bouncing off to a foreign owned bpo/pcv.......usd in my filipino bank acct i need u so bad....#skl.txt

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this-is-george-matthew · 4 months ago

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youtube

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love-of-the-red-star · 6 days ago

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That time I got reincarnated as an Aeon

(Series)

Chapter eight: In which the Express celebrates the Day of the Dead with you

Dan Heng’s room was nothing short of simple and surprisingly comfortable.

You’ve been digging around the archives again after your short trip to your favorite desert planet, ready to contribute to the logs that made up Dan Heng’s archive.

He’d allowed you to touch the monitors and type in what you wanted, surprising even Himeko as he was usually rather cautious to let other people(usually March, bless her heart) roam around and touch his things unless they only wanted to read up on things.

You thanked him for that, of course. It was rather sweet of him to allow you to do this.

And so you typed away— made little personal notes on what the culture was like, and people that you also knew as yourself and not Delia. While Dan Heng’s records of Sigonia IV already existed, you were compelled to make your own as well, as a thank you to the people that had been so far hospitable to you.

You haven’t seen little Kakavasha in your visit, so you too wondered how he is now. He’s probably an adult— not so little anymore, growing into the familiar visage of “Aventurine” that you knew in your past life, but you hope it’s not the same horribly tortured man you know.

There was still discrimination, even a bit more than a decade since the freedom of this clan— they still warred with the Katicans here and there, but the disputes were more manageable, less genocidal as the Avgin were more protected by humanitarian groups.

But there wasn’t really any real interest for the cultures of people that had been long discriminated even with your intervention, and if no one was going to do the job of helping them at least preserve a certain view of it, you’d do the job yourself.

Sigonia IV would not be the only place that would stay in the archives for the other future Nameless to find, maybe one day you’d ask for Boothill’s planet, because while it no longer existed, you believed it wasn’t fair for it to die along with him.

You’ve made notes of it, here and there from what little you could get from some books that made mention of it and Boothill’s ramblings. While you could always consult Fuli for the rest of the things, it felt disrespectful towards your friend. You may be an Aeon now, but you knew honor— prying without your friend’s permission felt invasive, you weren’t a human anymore, but you know that kind of stunt wouldn’t be something he would appreciate.

Suddenly, you wondered about the planets you’ve accidentally destroyed, about the lives you had taken without meaning to, and the ones you drove mad beyond your control. Your typing still continued, undeterred by your silent grief as information flowed into the data bank without even a slight inaccuracy despite the difference in how you felt.

You should grieve for the ones who were lost, you thought to yourself. Glancing at the date present in your monitor, you found it was the best time too.

The Day of the Dead.

You’re not even sure if people even celebrated that holiday in this world. Maybe Halloween, but you doubt Dia de los Muertos, as the Latinos would call it, or Araw ng mga patay, as the Filipinos would say, is something widely celebrated in an expanded universe such as this.

Maybe you’d find a world that does celebrate it someday, but for now, maybe you’re going to be alone in giving acknowledgment and silent grief to the ones that had been lost.

You weren’t very close to a religion in your previous life as a human, but now that you thought of the holidays that gave people solace and something to celebrate, you began to feel a little strange that there was no god you could pray to as you were now technically one yourself.

Worshippers weren’t so bad now when you think of it as people laying their problems to a willing ear they can’t see or hear to give them the peace of mind they desired.

You finished up the logs, determined to plant the Avgin’s language inside of it next on the next time you’d touch the monitor. But for now, you had a goal in mind.

——————————————

Some researchers knew you as a grieving Aeon, with your cries reaching the far ends of the cosmos for reasons they sometimes don’t understand.

They observed you once again, mindful to keep their distance from hundreds of light years away as the telescope that found your distant visage caught on the fact that you were crying yet again. But this time, you’re quiet. There was no horrible song of lament that fried wires and caused damage, this one was silent, this one was red.

The liquid that flowed from what seemed to be your eyes was crimson, your lips pressed together as your expression looked forlorn. The telescope saw your hands move, then suddenly, nothing.

You did not want it to see you.

——————————

Setting up an altar was relatively easy, decorated with flowers you’d grabbed from a world away in the expanse of a mountain and a lot of candles you’ve carefully lit.

Lives lost in the fight of freedom, and the lives you took without meaning to. There were too many to count, and you doubt Pompom would like to have the train set on fire.

There were no pictures, no relics, there was simply you, the flowers, the altar, the candles.

Welt had passed by your room and seemingly recognized the decor, quietly joining your side as you started to kneel in front of the altar and mumbled something along the lines of a familiar prayer that he vaguely recognized.

Sometimes Welt forgot you were a human in your previous life. You’ve told him before, when you disclosed things about yourself to him and Himeko.

There was no god that you knew to pray to here, and to make it stranger, you were one yourself. Maybe you were trying to emulate it— old habits maybe, old bits and pieces of your human personality, and reliving specific memories. Or maybe you’re just trying to commemorate those you’ve lost in the way you knew a distant life away.

Welt joined you in your prayer. There is no god to direct his thoughts to, but there’s a strange sense of peace there regardless.

Welt stood up after a few moments while you stayed, lingering before eventually leaving the room.

“Why does it smell like candles burning?” March asked as she encountered him in the hallway.

“It’s for a celebration.” He said. “A day to remember and honor the dead.”

She looked a little confused. “Day to honor the dead?”

“Yes, you can join [Name] in their room if you’d like. It’s not a bad thing, although I can understand why you’d be confused— it’s not widely celebrated after all.” Welt smiled as March slowly nodded.

————————

You weren’t in the room for much longer, opting to head to the kitchen so you could make something to eat. You were there for at least two hours, and everyone seemed to leave you alone to your devices as you made some dishes you remembered from a past life.

Some comfort food, and fluffy bread.

You brought it to the dinner table with a smile as Pompom trailed after you to arrange the bowls and plates for everyone.

Once you were done, you made do of calling everyone in to eat. They don’t really ask why there’s a different feast of savory and sweet food on the table that was clearly not Pompom’s cooking.

Welt looked at you in a certain way that you know that he knew things, and you sent him an appreciative nod as you gestured for everyone to sit down and eat.

“These are some.. recipes that I know from my homeworld.” You began. “These typically aren’t stuff you would get when you’re celebrating the holiday in a very traditional way, but sadly my knowledge of cooking is… kinda limited.” You scratched your temple awkwardly.

“You don’t have to apologize for it.” Himeko said. “It’s the intent that counts.” She smiled, then placed some bread on her plate and stew in her bowl.

“You’re right.” You gave her a small smile of your own.

You failed to spot Dan Heng at the corner of your eye, looking at the bowl of stew in contemplation as Welt’s words sprang up memories of old friends lost in a life he didn’t want to remember.

Maybe he’d allow himself to grieve losses just this once, even if that person who’s lost those people in a distant life away wasn’t him anymore. Maybe for those that Blade had taken from him too in this life.

“Are you okay?” March nudged him gently, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He said, blinking and snapping out of his thoughts before sinking his spoon into the stew.

Dan Heng found comfort in its flavor.

—————————————

March had taken photos of your room with the altar after dinner, plastering it into her wall with the label “Day of the Dead” in earth colored frames that contrasted the aesthetics of her room. She didn’t mind as much, surprising even herself as she was rather picky about her own decorations.

However, this was something that you shared with them, and that mattered to her. She couldn’t remember her past, and so to have a small piece of someone she knew that saved her was a nice feeling because she didn’t really quite know you. She doubt she ever would actually know you in the way the older crew members do, but that’s okay, that meant she could know you through the new memories she’d create.

She thought of you for a moment and what you’d lost, and she also wondered about the past self she can’t remember. Did she have people that she lost too? Were there people that lost her? Were there people that missed her?

She remembered her conversation with you, a strangely solemn topic for a girl so bubbly like her.

“What do you usually do?” She asked, clearly referring to the little holiday.

“People usually prayed, then offered food and flowers to their dead and all that.” You replied. “I thought it’d be a little nice to honor the people lost along the way. It’s a thing in my old world to not forget the dead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She found herself saying. “I shouldn’t have pushed.”

“You don’t have to worry, it’s not offensive at all.” You smiled and patted the spot next to you. “It’s a pretty big celebration in my world, and in some countries it’d be a lot livelier than this.” You said as she went to sit next to you.

“They’d wear costumes and make up and bring out live music and everything. The food’s a lot better too I think— there’s too many for me to remember, so the ones I made weren’t the traditional ones people ate during that day.” You explained as she listened attentively.

“That’s okay, it was delicious anyways.” She giggled, shifting slightly to adjust herself before settling in comfortably in a few moments of silence.

“Do you…. Miss your old world? Ah— you don’t have to answer that.” March sputtered, realizing her mistake.

“It’s okay. And yeah… maybe just a bit. I’m not sure how to feel about it to be honest.” You said, glancing at the windows of your room.

She couldn’t see what kind of expression you were making, and so she found herself hugging you. There was something inherently sad about you despite your antics, like you’ve lost too many things.

You returned that embrace.

————————-

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX(HERE), Part X……

Interludes: one, two…

Special chapter: link

Yeeeeee hello y’all!!! Pushing this chapter out in celebration of All Souls Day! :DD

I hope all of you are well! Also I’ll be happy to answer any of your questions regarding the series, so drop any thoughts, don’t be shy <333

#aeon reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #reader insert #himeko x reader #welt yang x reader #honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #boothill x reader #March 7th x reader #Dan Heng x reader

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finelinefae · 8 months ago

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home (doctor!harry)

synopsis: y/n is homesick and harry wants to help her

word count: 7.7k

contains: fluff, Filipino y/n, doctor harry, medical talk, homesickness, brief moments of discrimination, workplace bullying, rude co-workers

a/n: happy soft girl sunday!!! this is such an interesting and personal topic for me because so much of this was inspired by my mama and her own personal experiences of leaving her home in the Philippines and moving to an entirely different country to create a better life for herself. this one is for all of my girls who are struggling with homesickness, who work in a job because they have to not because they want to, who try to support their families, who work in healthcare, whose first language is not english, who feel as though their identity is muddled up and so much more- this is for you and this is for my mama too.

. . .

‘You have just as much right to be here as everyone else.’

That’s what Y/N had been telling herself since she had left for work in the early hours of this morning. She had barely slept a wink last night, tossing and turning as her mind was riddled with things that hadn’t happened but weighed so much.

Her backpack was filled with the things she listed weeks before. Her scrubs, a packed lunch, water, a few snacks to eat throughout the day and a couple of things loose at the bottom that jangled with each step she took towards the tube station. On her feet was a new pair of trainers her mother had bought her before she took the plane to a country she had never stepped foot in before the beginning of this month.

“Mahal kita, mamimiss kita.” I love you, I will miss you. Her mother had said as she dropped her off at the airport. No tears in her eyes because they were all in Y/N’s as she clenched her fingers around the handle of her small suitcase that was just enough to last the first few months out of the three years she’d be living away from her family.

“Mama,” Y/N cried, her family weren’t criers but today she was.

Y/N’s mother shook her head, refusing to allow herself to cry when this was meant to be good. “Gagawa ka ng mga magagandang bagay.” You will do such good things. Her mother wiped away her tears, “Mananatili pa rin ako dito sa loob ng tatlong taon at magiging mas mahusay ka.” I will still be here in three years and you will be someone better.

Y/N was homesick as soon as the plane lifted off the ground of her home country. The trouble with planes was the window was always too small and she could only ever look down and not behind. Once they flew over her country of the Philippines, she took in everything she possibly could - the bright colours of the sea and the sand on the beaches that stretched for miles.

She would come back and she would be better, for her family.

As she stepped off of the tube train and walked up the steps towards the light, she took the sunshine peeking through the gaps of the grey clouds in the London sky as a good sign. Even though things weren’t easy, it doesn’t mean they were bad.

The hospital was huge in comparison to the hospitals where she had done her training back home. It took her a while to find where the entrance was without going in through the emergency department but eventually, she found her way to the front desk.

"Hi," Y/N said softly, feeling unsure. Even though she was good at English after years of studying it during school, she still doubted herself, especially around fluent speakers. It made her feel embarrassed and more of an outsider than she already was. “I’m Y/N, I’m here to pick up my ID badge.”

The woman at the desk, peered over her glasses and smiled, “Is today your first day?”

“Yes, I’m a healthcare assistant,” Y/N offered a smile, as best as she could despite her nerves.

The woman’s fingers clacked against the keyboard, “I’m afraid your ID badge has yet to be delivered so I’ll have to give you a temporary one.”

Y/N’s smile faltered, “Oh okay,”

“Let me print one out for you, I’ll be right back.” The receptionist slid off her chair.

Y/N stood to the side, her eyes darting around the hospital. There were many healthcare workers already at work, pushing patients around in wheelchairs or walking in pairs down huge corridors. She gripped the strap of her backpack, her palms sweating.

Suddenly, a man stepped up to the desk beside her, reaching over to grab a clipboard and a pen. He was wearing a white shirt with a stethoscope around his neck. Y/N’s eyes narrowed on his badge, seeing the word ‘Doctor’ written in bold.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a detached tone, his attention elsewhere.

Y/N hesitated, noticing his lack of focus. "Um, no, I'm just waiting," she stammered.

He scoffed dismissively. "Typical," he muttered, setting the clipboard back down and finally turning to face her.

Y/N was taken aback by his striking appearance. Her breath caught as she met his gaze, momentarily forgetting her surroundings. His features were chiselled, framed by dark hair that fell effortlessly across his forehead. But it was his piercing eyes that held her captive, a mesmerising shade of green that reminded her of the leaves off the mango trees that grew in her hometown.

His gaze found hers, and she noticed the subtle parting of his lips as his eyes settled on her. There was a softness in his gaze, a gentle relaxation evident in the way his shoulders eased down. Maybe it was from how frightened she looked as her gaze landed on everything around her but his voice was softer now, a hint of concern evident beneath the initial hardness, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Y/N blinked, her cheeks flushing slightly as she regained her composure. "Uh, no, I'm fine, thank you," she managed to reply, feeling a flutter in her chest at the unexpected kindness in his tone.

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “Well alright then. I know how hard first days can be so if I see you around, don’t worry about asking me for help.”

“Oh uh, thank you…Doctor,” Y/N replied, taken aback by his kindness.

“Y’ can call me Harry,” She noticed a dimple appear when he smiled. His eyes were fixed on her for a beat before he pointed to his name badge and continued, “S my name y’ see.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile and a little giggle escaped her, “It’s a nice name.”

“What’s your name?” Harry asked but was interrupted by the receptionist returning.

“Good morning Doctor Styles,” She greeted as she sat back at the desk.

“Good morning Hannah,” Harry replied, his eyes darting from Y/N to Hannah.

The woman slid the badge over to Y/N. It was a printed-out copy of the badge she was supposed to have gotten, laminated and whole-punched to a lanyard. Y/N took it between her fingers and read her name on it, her eyebrows furrowing. “Um, I think my last name is spelt wrong,” Y/N said, it would be fine if it was a small spelling mistake but it may as well be a completely different name with the way it had been spelt.

“Sorry?” Hannah’s smile faltered.

"U-um, my last name is spelled wrong. I-I'm sorry, I don't want to be such a pain," Y/N stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she handed the lanyard back to the receptionist.

The receptionist glanced at the name badge, and then back at Y/N. "Oh, it must be because it's such a complicated name. I must have spelt it wrong on the computer. Are you sure you can't just use it? Only until your ID comes in?"

Y/N felt a sinking feeling in her chest. She hated confrontation or being an inconvenience, but she had already given up so much for a better life here. She couldn't give up her name too. "But it's my name," she insisted softly, her voice trembling with a mixture of frustration and determination.

Just as the receptionist's mouth opened to respond, the Doctor, who had been silently observing, cleared his throat. "Hannah, I think it would be better if we give Y/N the correct name on her own ID badge, don't you think?" He interjected gently, coming to Y/N's aid without hesitation. “The whole point of it is to let people know who we are, we wouldn’t want people getting Y/N’s name wrong on her first day would we?”

Hannah frowned and Y/N could tell she wasn’t happy, “Right, I’ll be right back.”

Y/N released a sigh, putting a hand to her forehead, “Thank you, Doctor Styles.” She said even though she was extremely embarrassed.

“Hey it’s Harry,” He smiled, “And you were right to argue with her, ‘s your name which is beautiful by the way.” Y/N's cheeks flushed even deeper at his compliment, but she managed a shy smile in return, feeling a sense of gratitude for Harry's kindness and support. “Don’t let these people push you around. You have just of a right to be here as everyone else.”

Y/N’s lips parted as he spoke the words she had been repeating to herself since she woke up. Y/N watched him go, her heart still racing at the unexpected encounter, a newfound warmth spreading through her as she resumed her wait in the bustling hospital corridor.

Hannah soon returned with an annoyed look on her face as she handed Y/N her temporary badge with her name written correctly. She thanked her and walked away already having gained a possible enemy but maybe a possible friend too.

. . .

“I don’t want her as my nurse,” An elderly patient said midway through the day as they were serving lunch.

Y/N had been in her scrubs for five hours, with another seven to go. Her feet ached from standing all day, attending to the patients that had been assigned to her at the start of the day. While some of the other healthcare workers had been welcoming, she couldn't ignore the clear divide between them. They tended to gather in separate groups and have their own cliques going on amongst them, but Y/N appreciated their support as she adjusted to her new role, minding her own business as she did.

“Margot,” Layla, another healthcare assistant, spoke to the eighty-year-old woman who was laying in bed waiting for her lunch to be fed to her, “Y/N’s a new healthcare assistant, she’s just going to be feeding you lunch.”

“I don’t want her,” Margot protested, “I want someone else.”

Y/N's gaze dropped, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach. She had been expecting this to happen at some point but she didn’t think it would happen so soon. "It's alright, Layla. I'll take over your tasks," Y/N offered quietly, not wanting to make a scene.

Layla's eyes softened with sympathy. "She's not usually like this," she whispered.

Y/N nodded, her resolve firm as she gathered her belongings to assist elsewhere. "No problem," she replied with a shrug, masking her hurt.

"C'mon, Margot," Layla urged gently, collecting the tray of hot lunch.

"I don't want a foreigner feeding me," Margot muttered sharply, her words stinging the air.

Y/N’s eyes stung as she left the room. She thought she had been lucky with her patient’s today and the majority of them had been rather lovely. They’d been interested in Y/N’s life, noticing her olive-toned complexion and black hair and asking her where she came from. The question allowed her to reminisce on her time back home and describe the foods and the environment she grew up with but it was only so long before she came across someone who didn’t care - seeing her as nothing more than a stranger in a foreign land that never quite felt like home.

Y/N took three deep breaths before stepping into the wing to cover Layla's shift for an hour. She knew she needed to shake off the hurt from the recent encounter, hoping that immersing herself in work would help ease the discomfort.

Three other women were working on the ward when Y/N entered the room. They were sitting in the corner on plastic chairs, sharing a phone screen as some show played. One of them turned when they noticed Y/N was in the room which caused the other two to follow.

“Hello,” Y/N spoke, timidly, “I’m here to help out Layla for a little while.”

The women exchanged knowing glances, their expressions morphing into smirks. One of them, the apparent leader of the group, sneered as she replied, "Oh, great. About time someone else did some work around here. Layla's been slacking off all morning."

“Really?” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, Layla had been very kind to her just moments ago.

“Yeah,” The leader replied, her lips smacking together as she chewed on a piece of gum, “You can start by feeding those three their lunches.” She pointed her finger towards three patients lying in their beds.

“All three?” There were only six beds in the room.

“Is there a problem?” The woman folded her arms, the other two trying not to laugh behind her.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “No there is not.”

Y/N rolled up her sleeves and got to work, trying to spoon-feed all three patients as the other girls sat in the corner continuing to watch their show. Despite the mocking gaze of her co-workers, Y/N was fully determined to prove to herself that she could get through this. She needed to just put her head down and remind herself that this was for the better - the money would be worth it at the end of the month and she’d have enough to send to her family back home too.

As Y/N sat with the last patient, one of the ladies stood up to go and tended to another one. “Janice,” She cooed, walking over to the side of the bed where an elderly woman lay asleep, “Janice wake up love,” She squeezed her hand, “Janice?”

Y/N’s head shot in their direction, her eyes falling on Janice who wouldn’t wake up. She dropped the bowl of food on the side table and rushed over, “Hello Janice? Can you hear me?” The lady asked as Y/N put her ear to her mouth to see if she was breathing.

“She’s unconscious,” Y/N stated, “Her throat is blocked, did you feed her?”

The woman’s eyes were wide, “I-I-”

“Call the doctor,” Y/N instructed one of the other girls who immediately pressed the red button to alert the emergency services.

“We don’t have enough time,” Y/N muttered, “Get me a tracheostomy tube.”

“We don’t have authorisation to-”

“I can do it, I’ve done it before, please.” Y/N’s adrenaline was running high but she remained calm on the surface, it was what she had been trained to do.

The woman hurried over with a tube, and Y/N wasted no time. With steady hands, she performed a tracheostomy to create an emergency airway for Janice. Time seemed to blur as Y/N worked quickly and efficiently.

Minutes later, as Y/N finished, the doctor entered the room, taking in the scene with great concern and alertness on his face. “Where’s the emergency?” It was Doctor Styles, Y/N recognised him by his voice.

She squeezed her eyes shut, even though the patient had been saved and was able to breathe better, it wasn’t protocol to allow Healthcare assistants to perform such an intricate procedure that could so easily go wrong. She could be in big trouble for this and it was only her first day.

“Janice was unconscious, she was barely breathing,” One of Y/N’s co-workers explained.

Harry approached the patient, his eyes widening in disbelief as he realised what Y/N had done. "You did this?" he asked his tone a mix of astonishment and concern.

Y/N looked up, her stomach churning with dread. She could already picture the disappointment on her mother's face for potentially jeopardising her job on the first day. "I was trying to-"

"Do you realise how dangerous this procedure is?" Harry's voice cut through her explanation.

Y/N's gaze fell to the ground, her throat tightening with guilt. "Yes, I do."

"She could have died," Harry stated, his tone grave.

"I know, but I-" Y/N began, her words faltering.

"You saved her life," Harry's interruption caught Y/N off guard, her head shooting up to meet his gaze. For the first time, she saw the awe and shock reflected in his eyes.

“How did you know how to do it?” Harry asked, genuine curiosity evident in his tone.

“I learnt it during my training,” Y/N explained, her nerves still on edge.

“You just learnt it?” Harry chuckled softly, his gaze drifting to the other women in the room. "And what were you three doing when this happened?"

“W-well, we've yet to learn that procedure, Doctor Styles,” one of them spoke up, the rest nodding along in agreement.

Harry rolled his eyes, his attention returning to Y/N. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Truly remarkable,” he said, his gaze fixed on her.

. . .

Y/N was exhausted at the end of her shift. Her bag was still packed, her lunch and snacks untouched, because she had been on her feet all day. Her skin felt sticky underneath her sweatshirt, she couldn’t wait to shower once she got back to the house.

As she left the hospital, she inhaled the fresh air and felt the cool breeze against her flushed face. She needed to get the tube station back to her boarding house but she was grateful to finally have a few hours away from the scent of disinfectant and rude co-workers.

“Y/N!” Y/N spun on her heel as she heard the call of her name, turning to see Doctor Styles pacing towards her. It was the first time today she had seen him wearing glasses.

“Doctor Styles, I thought you would be at home already,” She smiled as best as she could despite feeling much too tired to do so.

“No, I still have a few hours to go.” He replied, that dimple and sparkle in his eye returning to his equally tired face. “I caught you walking out and left my office to come speak to you. I was really impressed by what you did today. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen a healthcare assistant do that under such pressure.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Y/N was terrible at taking compliments, even more so when she was tired.

“It was everything. You saved a woman’s life.” Harry stated.

"Right," Y/N murmured, her mind still reeling from the events of the day and Harry's constant acknowledgement.

A brief moment of silence fell between them as Harry looked as though he was trying to speak but didn’t know how to word it properly, “Listen I…forgive me if I’m being too forward but would you maybe want to grab something to eat with me one night, maybe, I don’t know. If you want to of course, no pressure, and if you have a boyfriend that’s okay too but is it okay if you don’t tell me because that would be incredibly kind towards my pride.”

For the first time today, Y/N released a genuine laugh as he finished his rambling. “You’re not like the boys back home.” She said after she had composed herself.

Harry frowned, “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s refreshing,” She told him, it was nice to experience something new and it be a good thing for once. “I will go out with you Harry.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Harry’s lips, despite his attempt to suppress it by biting his bottom lip. He rubbed his hand over his mouth in a futile effort to conceal his grin, but the crinkles around his eyes and the dimples on his cheeks betrayed his amusement. "Okay," he chuckled softly, unable to contain his delight. "That’s good."

“I have an afternoon off in three days time, is that okay?” He asked eagerly, wanting to see her as soon as possible.

“I would like that,” she says, her voice filled with anticipation. “A lot actually.”

Their gazes locked for a brief moment. “Well, I should probably get going,” Y/N said, breaking the silence.

“Yes, of course. Can I give you my number first? I can text you the details later if that’s okay,” Harry asked, pulling his phone out of his back pocket.

“Oh, sure,” Y/N replied, taking out her phone, which only had her family’s numbers saved in it.

Harry quickly typed his number into Y/N's phone before handing it back to her with a warm smile. “I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow?” Harry asked.

“Yes, I’m here tomorrow.” Harry walked backwards towards the hospital entrance, smiling and shaking his head before turning his back to her.

Y/N was in disbelief as she began her journey home. She couldn't shake the feeling of surprise that someone like Harry would want to go on a date with her. Dating wasn't even on her radar when she arrived; she had suspected that no man would find her attractive because of how she looked - she wasn’t really deemed the stereotypical female in Western society. But Harry's genuine interest had shattered those doubts. As she navigated through the bustling streets, a newfound sense of confidence began to bloom within her. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something wonderful and a new distraction from her overwhelming life.

. . .

Harry had been eyeing the clock all morning.

“Have somewhere to be?” Niall, his co-worker, asked, having seen him glued to the clock.

“Something like that,” Harry mumbled.

With just an hour left of his shift, Harry couldn't shake the anticipation of taking Y/N out for dinner tonight. She had been occupying his thoughts incessantly for the past three days. The golden hue of her skin and the soft, round features of her face had etched themselves into his mind. He found himself mesmerised by the almond shape of her eyes, their deep brown colour reminiscent of a shot of espresso in the morning.

He loved the melodic, soft tones of her voice and the way she spoke with an accent that brought life into the usual boring words people spoke to him every day. He thought about how her cheeks would tinge pink whenever she’d start speaking, how shy she was whenever he’d praise her or how expressive her eyes were whenever she wasn’t talking.

He was a Doctor and knew all the ways in which the mind and body worked but he was beginning to question his beliefs since he had met Y/N because he was pretty sure he had fallen in love at first sight.

Everything about her had been on his mind and he was desperate to find out all that he possibly could about the quiet, shy healthcare assistant who saved the life of a woman on her first day.

Interrupting the images of Y/N that had been playing in his mind, was the sound of the buzzer to the emergency department. Harry sat up at the same time as Niall who was already standing to his feet to go and see what the problem was. He sighed, hoping for time to hurry up so the evening would arrive much sooner.

“Hey it’s me,” Harry sighed a heavy sigh into the phone as he held it against his ear, sitting in his car in the staff parking area of the hospital many hours later. His forehead was pressed against the steering wheel as tiredness and guilt laced within him.

“Hello Harry,” Y/N’s soft voice rang through the speaker, soothing a piece of him that was just so tired, “Is everything okay?”

Harry’s eyes squeezed shut, “You’re probably going to hate me for this but is there any chance we can reschedule? Something came up at work and I’ve only just come out.” He was five hours overtime after a family had been rushed into the emergency room after an accident.

He swallowed as he waited for her to reply, “Oh,” She said and the small remark made him feel even more guilty than he already felt.

“I’m sorry,” He hated himself because it was all he had been looking forward to.

“Harry,” Y/N said his name, “It’s okay. I’ve worked in enough hospitals to know these things happen. Of course, we can go at another time but are you okay?”

He released a long breath at the question, “No not really,” it was the truth and another reason why he needed to reschedule the date. He had seen some pretty tough things today and it weighed heavily on his mind.

“Have you eaten?” Y/N asked, concern in her voice.

His eyes stung, his head falling back against the headrest, “No I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Y/N sighed over the phone, “Do you live close by?”

“I live about ten minutes from the hospital,” He told her, wondering why she would ask.

“Is it okay if I come by?” She asks, “I mean it’s okay if not.”

Harry’s shoulders dropped, “That actually sounds really nice.”

The fact that Y/N would be visiting him at his home seemed to ease the weight of the long day from Harry's shoulders. With a faint smile playing on his lips, he leaned back in his seat, feeling a hint of anticipation at the thought of her company.

When Harry got home, he saw how messy his apartment was. Feeling a sudden jolt of energy, he quickly picked up his laundry off of the floor and threw dirty dishes into the dishwasher. He took a moment to straighten up the living room and fluff the cushions on the couch. Trying to make everything look cleaner than it actually was in order to impress her.

His buzzer rang and he quickly went to answer it, allowing her to come up as his heart raced in his chest. With one last glance around the room, he swiftly nudged something under the coffee table before reaching the door just as she knocked.

Harry felt all the tiredness from his body lift when he opened the door and found her standing there with a plastic carrier bag in her hands. She was wearing leggings and a sweatshirt, her hair tied up in a ponytail and her face make-up free.

“Hey,” He breathed, a piece of him settling when he laid eyes on her, “Thank you for coming here.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” She smiled and walked past him after he moved to the side to let her in.

Her eyes were wide as she took in his apartment, “This is a lot better than the boarding house.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “You’re living in a boarding house?”

She nodded, “Only until I can find my own place to live. It was what the company who transferred me here offered when I applied.”

“I see,” Harry realised he was still in his uniform except his shirt was untucked and his tie was loose around his neck.

Y/N placed the plastic bag on the kitchen counter, “I bought some things to make you since you didn’t eat. How about I start cooking and you can get changed?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, “I-I hope you don’t think I invited you over to cook for me Y/N. I actually really just wanted to see you.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, “It’s okay, I enjoy cooking and maybe it’s my excuse to see you too.”

He took a step forward, “If I had known you had been waiting to find an excuse I would have invited you over much sooner.”

She shifted under his gaze, biting her lip to stop her smile, “Go get dressed,” She ordered and Harry grinned, it was the first time he had seen her act so assertively.

He took a thirty-minute long shower, scrubbing off the remains of the day from his skin. He wore a grey sweatshirt and sweatpants, drying his hair with a towel as he re-entered the kitchen to find Y/N already plating up the food she had made.

The kitchen was an aroma of fragrances Harry had never smelt before. His mouth watered as Y/N spooned rice onto plates and picked up the saucepan to bring to the kitchen island. “This smells amazing,” Harry sat on one of the stools, picking up a knife and fork.

“It’s called chicken adobo,” Y/N informs him, “It’s a traditional dish of the Philippines, my mama used to make it for me and my sister when we’d come in from school.”

Harry listened intently, “That’s where you’re from?”

Y/N smiled, “It’s my home.” She took Harry’s plate and spooned some of the chicken on top of the rice before doing the same for herself, “I hope you don’t mind but I use my hands to eat,”

Harry lowered his knife and fork, “Really?”

“Mhm,” Y/N picked up some of the rice and chicken with her fingers, “It’s called Kamayan. It’s meant to help appreciate the flavours and textures of the food we make or are served.”

Harry looked genuinely interested as Y/N ate the food pressed into her hand, “Can I try?”

Y/N paused chewing on her food, not expecting him to want to try something that in many Western cultures might be considered bad manners. She quickly swallowed it down and nodded, “Of course.”

Harry pursed his lips as he concentrated on gathering the rice and chicken into his hands. He felt the stickiness of the rice as he pressed it with his fingers. It wasn’t as graceful as Y/N had done as he attempted to put it all into his mouth. He chewed on the chicken, his taste buds tingling at the new flavour.

Swallowing it down his eyes brightened, “It’s delicious!”

Y/N’s eyes crinkled, “Yeah? You think so?”

“I’ve never eaten with my hands before but it feels quite liberating.” He chuckles.

Y/N laughs, “My mama always told us to eat with our hands.”

Harry repeated the action, scooping the perfect serving into his hand and eating it, “Where did you live when you lived in the Philippines?”

“I grew up in Roxas City- it’s on one of the many islands and it’s beautiful. The beaches stretch for miles and the water is so blue and clear you can see your feet walking along the bottom.” Harry watched as Y/N explained animatedly what her home country was like. Her words brought the images to life in his mind as he pictured her walking along the beaches.

He was happy to see her relax into conversation the more questions he asked about her home, “What made you want to come here to work?”

Y/N’s smile faltered and Harry wished he could take back the question but she answered, “My family aren’t wealthy and I always knew I would have to leave at some point to go out and make enough money to bring back for them so we could have a better life. I trained in healthcare so I could come here and work.”

Harry's expression softened, concern evident in his eyes. "Has it been difficult?" he asked gently. He knew it might sound like a cliché question, but he genuinely wanted to make sure she was coping okay. It must be incredibly difficult having to leave everything you know for something completely different.

“I’m so homesick,” Y/N’s eyes watered, “Every day I go back to that boarding house and count down the days until I can go home again. I-I thought I knew English before coming here but it’s so difficult to understand when people are talking so fast and expecting you to know what they’re saying.” Harry grabbed a tissue and passed it to her. She took it in her hands and gave him a watery smile, “I miss my mama and my sister and the sun. London is so grey.”

Harry reached out a hand and gripped her fingers, squeezing them gently, “Hey, you’re doing so good Y/N.” He started, “You’re so unbelievably brave for coming here and starting this new life. I mean I couldn’t do what you’re doing - I get homesick even when my mum lives ten minutes away,” Y/N laughs and the sound sparks something inside of him, even when she was crying she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life, “You should be so proud of yourself and I know your family is proud of you too.”

Y/N’s watery eyes looked into his, “Thank you,” She whispered, “This is the first time I’ve stepped outside my house other than to get that stupid train to work.”

“Seriously?” Harry was shocked, no wonder she was feeling so trapped and cooped up.

Harry glanced at their two empty plates before giving her hand a tight squeeze, “C’mon,”

“What-” Y/N watched as he grabbed his jacket and car keys.

“Let me take you somewhere,” He insisted, his voice warm and inviting.

“But it’s dark outside?” Y/N slid off her stool and followed him to the front door.

“That’s the best time of day,” He smirked and whisked her away to his car where he drove her through the streets of London, illuminated by the lights that lit up the streets.

He parked on the side of the road somewhere and they walked for fifteen minutes until they reached a busier area of the city where people were still out with friends, “Hopefully it’s still there,” He mumbled.

“What are you talking about?” Y/N frowned and her head lifted to see the bright lights from billboards that surrounded the square. Perfume adverts and models appeared on the big screens as tourists posed for pictures in front of them.

“This is Piccadilly Circus,” Harry motioned to the place they were standing in. He intertwined their fingers and led her over to stand her in front of the biggest billboard of them all, “And that is your home.” He pointed to it and the billboard switched to a picture of a beach that looked almost exactly the same as the one she had grown up near. Big, bold letters with the words ‘Visit the Philippines’ were at the bottom but Y/N couldn’t seem to stop staring at the sea that illuminated the square, casting it in blue light.

Her eyes glistened with tears, “I know it’s not the same,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck, “But-”

“It’s my home,” Y/N gasped, a grin taking over her entire face, “That’s where I’m from Harry!”

Harry’s grin mirrored hers, “It is!” He replies with equal enthusiasm.

“Can you take a picture of me?” She reached for her phone and passed it to him. Y/N smiled like a kid at Christmas in front of the billboard and Harry quickly snapped a picture before it switched to a different advert.

He handed the phone back to her and she looked down unable to keep her eyes off of that blue sea she had been missing. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” She murmured and looked up to see him already gazing at her, “Thank you.”

Harry smiled bashfully, shaking his head, “I know you don’t believe it yet but I think you were meant to be here at this moment in life and I think maybe I was meant to be here too.” He admitted.

“You really think that?” She asked.

“I believe it wholeheartedly,” He stated.

When the billboard returned to the picture of the sea, Y/N insisted Harry stand to get a picture in front of it. He pulled a face, pointing at the billboard and the picture came out all blurry because Y/N had been laughing too much.

Late into the night, they stayed in Piccadilly Circus taking pictures of each other and with each other as the beach appeared on the screen. Harry swore his camera roll was now just pictures of Y/N squealing with excitement whenever the image of the beach appeared.

In the moments in between, they sat and spoke. Comparing cultures and learning more about one another. Whilst Y/N had learnt about Harry’s family and living in the English countryside as a child, Harry had learnt all about Y/N’s time in the sun and how much she adored fishing in the spring and picking mangoes off her grandpa’s mango trees.

It wasn’t a date, it was more than that.

It was the converging of two paths in life that had now become one.

. . .

Mahal na mama, Dear mama.

I got my first paycheck today and I have sent you as much as I can. I hope it’s enough to buy you some new shoes because I know you are getting tired of your old ones.

I have been working hard and I’m slowly growing used to the way things work here. I’d be lying if I told you it was easy, it’s been so incredibly hard. So many times I have been desperate to come home, wondering whether this was where I belonged or if it just wasn’t meant to be.

But Mama, I’ve met someone.

Don’t be upset. I know you always told me and sissy it should always be careers before boys but he has become my home away from home mama.

He’s a doctor at the hospital and his name is Harry.

Every day he picks me up from work even though his apartment is right by the hospital and we walk into work together. He’s not embarrassed to hold my hand or kiss me goodbye either.

I spend a lot of days at his home because it’s a lot nicer than my boarding house. He asks me to cook him some of your recipes and he tells me to tell you that they are delicious and he hopes one day that you can cook them for him.

He loves to listen to me speak about home and I love to hear him speak about his.

He’s introduced me to this whole other world of culture mama and it is so beautiful.

I love you and I miss you but I am safe and happy and I am doing well.

I am still counting down the days until I can come home and visit you but just know I am no longer homesick because of him.

Mahal kita Mama.

. . .

“Ang pangalan ko ay Harry,”

“Ang… Pan-gaaa-”

“Pangalan,” Y/N tried not to laugh at the concentrated look on his face.

“Pangalan,” She nods.

“Ang pangalan ko ay Harry,” Harry looks at her for confirmation and she nods, leaning forward to kiss him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry, my name is Y/N.” She murmurs against his lips.

She feels his lips curve against hers before he puckers them and presses kisses all over her face. She tries to pull him away but he keeps her in his grip until they collapse onto the bed. “Harryyyy,” She giggles as he presses kisses along her exposed collarbones.

“What’s the word for kisses again?” He murmurs against her neck.

Y/N’s hands run through his curls, pushing them back from his face. Her lips ghost against his as she murmurs, “Mga halik,”

“Mga halik,” He repeats, his pronunciation improving.

“Mhm,” She puckers her lips to kiss him to which he happily hums and returns her kiss. “I need to start dinner,”

“No,” He whines, holding onto her, “Stay.”

“But I’m so hungry and you need to help me with the lumpia.” She says referring to the spring roles she had taught him to make.

“We can’t order a pizza?” He pouts, “I just want to hold you.”

Y/N sighed but was unable to prevent herself from falling for the pouty look on his face, “Fine, we’ll get a pizza but only if we can get it with pineapple.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, “Criminal,”

“But you love me?” She grins, cheekily.

“I do,” He kisses her before grabbing his phone, “I truly do.”

Since moving to a new country and meeting Harry, Y/N's life had transformed. He had brought back the sense of familiarity she had lost when she moved across the world. In him, she found not just love, but a true home—a place where she belonged and was cherished in return.

Her work and life in general had become easier because she no longer felt so alone. Every day they’d sit together during their lunch breaks at work and go back to Harry’s apartment at the end of their shifts.

“Hi baby,” Harry greeted her whenever she’d get into the car with him. He’d lean over the console and kiss her.

“Hi syota,” Sweetheart. She’d say in return and despite how tired he felt, he always managed to smile at the term of endearment she’d picked for him.

Further into their dating, Harry had been desperate to learn her language. Even though Y/N told him it didn’t matter to her - they had their own ways of communicating that only they understood, bridging the gap between words that got lost in translation - he was instant on it.

“But when our kids learn, I’ll be left out.” It was the first time he said I love you without even saying the three words.

As they sat in his living room, which was slowly becoming hers too, eating pizza and watching Lord of the Rings, because Harry was insistent on making Y/N watch the whole series if she wanted to truly see the beauty of Western culture, Y/N realised that maybe Harry was right and this was where she was meant to be all along.

“I love you,” Harry murmured as he held her in his arms on the couch.

“Mahal kita.” I love you. She replied, feeling more at home in his arms than she did anywhere else in the world.

3 years later…

“Are you nervous baby?” Harry whispered in her ear as they sat side by side on the plane, their fingers intertwined. She was wearing his sweater and he had one of her rings on a chain around his neck, it was the physical representation of how they had interwoven their lives had become.

“A little,” Y/N confessed, glancing out the window to see they were nearing the island she had left three years ago. “I’m worried they won’t like this version of me.”

“Hey,” Harry cupped her cheek in his hand, “They’re your family, they’ll love every version of you the same way I do.”

Y/N’s lips turned upwards, “You promise?”

“I’d never lie to you my love,” He kissed the bridge of her nose.

The plane shook as it landed on the ground. Y/N could already feel the heat of the sun before she’d even stepped off the plane, just from looking out the window. Harry grabbed her duffle bag from the overhead compartment and took his own travel case as well.

He was wearing a shirt that said ‘But Daddy I love him’ and white shorts with sunglasses buried in his dishevelled curls. They had been flying for hours, the both of them exhausted, but Y/N couldn’t seem to calm the jitters of seeing her home again.

Harry pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head, “Calm down, puso ko.” my heart.

“Do you think she’ll be here?” Y/N was already craning her neck as they got to passport control even though it was impossible to see past the arrival gates from where they stood.

She remembered what her mother had told her when she dropped her off to start her new life in England.

“Mananatili pa rin ako dito sa loob ng tatlong taon at magiging mas mahusay ka.” I will still be here in three years and you will be someone better.

She hoped she had done just as her mother said and she would be returning to her as someone better than the person she used to be.

Once they got through the gate, Y/N stood on her toes and tried to spot her mother in the crowds. She didn’t expect to see her right away as her mother was rather short but she hoped she’d sense her presence somewhere in the room.

“Do you see her?” Y/N asked, Harry was also looking around to see if she was somewhere.

“Y/N!” A warm, comforting voice that echoed in the depths of her childhood and rang through her to this day, called for her amongst the bustle of people.

Y/N’s eyes watered, “Mama!” She called, spinning around to find her.

“Hey look baby,” Harry pointed and that’s when Y/N saw her. Her arms open, standing in the place she promised she would be three years later.

“Mama!” Y/N dropped Harry’s hand and ran towards her mother, enveloping herself in her arms and feeling her soft skin against her own. She felt the hands that had held her as a child, cling to the back of her shirt.

“Ang anak ko,” My child. Her mother held her.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Y/N whispered, her eyes flooding with tears.

Y/N pulled away, looking down at her mother and feeling a fresh flood of tears fill her eyes. A presence came up behind her, a hand on her shoulder. She put her hand on top of his and watched as her mother’s eyes widened in surprise, “Mama, this is my boyfriend, Harry.”

Harry cleared his throat, placing their bags on the floor, “Hello ang pangalan ko ay Harry. Ikinagagalak kitang makilala.” Hello, my name is Harry. Nice to meet you. His tone was slightly unsure as he spoke but Y/N beamed as he spoke the words to his mother, having spent the last few years teaching him.

Her mother smiled, a tear falling from her eye. Y/N’s lips parted, having never seen her mother cry before. She took a step forward and then wrapped her arms around Harry, “Salamat sa pag-aalaga sa anak ko.” thank you for taking care of my daughter.

Y/N covered her mouth to stop herself from sobbing in the middle of the airport. She wanted to take this moment and bottle it up as she watched her two favourite people in the entire world embrace each other.

If there was one thing Y/N had learnt from her time away it was that home wasn’t so much of a place anymore but the people instead.

These were her people.

They were her home.

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